


afflictions eclipsed by glory

by passionesque



Category: The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Katherine Pierce, Banter, Canon Compliant to TVD S2, Domestic Fluff, Drama, F/M, Kalijah, Katherine & Kol Friendship, Original Family Chaos, Original Family Dynamics, Romance, Sassy Katherine, Sexual Tension, Smut, Snarky & Sarcastic Elijah, TVD Elijah because TO Elijah does not slap that much, Tags will be updated, all issues between Kalijah will be addressed eventually, except for his suits cos yes, mature - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:01:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/passionesque/pseuds/passionesque
Summary: It’s 1864 and Katherine is cradling Stefan’s lifeless form in the middle of the road in Mystic Falls, swearing her undying love and promises to meet once more when crisp footsteps sound from the trees and—“Katerina.”She freezes, spine snapping straight at that familiar voice and the way the R in her name rolls so perfectly that it takes her less than a second to realise who is behind her.She turns, fingers trembling in the folds of her dirty, ripped skirt and blanches.“Elijah.”What she thinks is the start of a brutal bloody confrontation evolves into something else entirely when Elijah, the man who’s hunted her down for centuries on behalf of his wretched brother, proposes a truce—a partnership.OR: It's Team Kalijah working together since 1864 to bring Klaus down and it doesn’t help that there are at least 300 years worth of unsaid conversations and emotions between them. AU. Kalijah. Mostly S2 compliant and in which TO and TVD S3 and beyond is entirely disregarded.
Relationships: Elijah Mikaelson & Katherine Pierce, Elijah Mikaelson/Katherine Pierce
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	afflictions eclipsed by glory

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. Yes, so apparently, I have a _thing_ for dead pairings and fandoms. And I was trying to watch TO for the third time, hoping that the fact it has ended would make it more bearable and—no. Just no. Hence, the birth of this fic.
> 
> Kalijah is probably the hardest pairing I've ever tried my hand at writing so this is a challenge because of Elijah's stuffiness and Katherine's many facades. So I hope that I do them justice in this piece!
> 
> This fic will go at a pace with time jumps, and it will be a while before it leads to the present, AKA Mystic Falls and to that fated Original family reunion. Because IMHO, there are too many things to address between the pair before things get plotty :")
> 
> So, here it is! Enjoy!

**Chapter 1 ∞ Reunion**

_1864, Mystic Falls, Virginia_

Her skirts are dirtied and ripped from being dragged from one end to another of the wilderness in Mystic Falls, her dark curls are free and tumbling down her back and most of all, she’s covered in blood that doesn’t belong to her. 

Naturally, it’s just her rotten luck that Damon Salvatore had to come and play the dashing hero, nearly throwing all of her carefully crafted plans into the raging fire. And of course, the elder Salvatore simply had to involve his younger brother in his ill-thought-out plans that led to their undead corpses strewn messily on the ground in front of her. 

Katherine bites back the stirrings of regret and guilt that bubbles in her gut as she takes in their ashen faces, lined with shock and pain from the bullets spearing their flesh in their attempt to rescue her. She clenches her fists at her sides and exhales shakily.

Yes, she is prepared to bear the weight of being the instrumental key that led all twenty-six of her friends to their deaths—in short, she has literally thrown them to the wolves. She’s all but confessed her sins to a priest. Unwittingly, her brain summons up images of Pearl and her daughter, Anna and even Henry, and the fatal end she’s brought to them. 

Katherine presses her lips into a thin line as she blocks their faces out. There isn’t time for regrets. She’s tired of running, exhausted of living her life in fear and faking her death had been a brilliant idea she’d come up with in the bath.

And like she’d told so many others she’d betrayed over the years: _Better you, than I._

She may have her regrets, but if given a choice, she’ll do it all again.

Lifting her chin and doing as promised, she hands over the stupid moonstone to George Lockwood who practically salivates over the damned thing like a dog panting over a bone. Soon enough, the werewolf is leading her to a carriage where she can make her escape but something in her pauses and Katherine finds herself looking back at the fallen Salvatores.

Ignoring the calls for her to hurry before she’s discovered, Katherine kneels at Stefan’s side and smooths the soft brown locks from his face before cradling the side of his jaw tenderly. 

Just this once, she allows herself to give in to the turmoil of emotions roiling through her.

“I love you, Stefan,” she whispers to his unconscious form, slowly memorising every detail and feature of him, from his dark brows to the pronounced slant of his nose and his parted lips. “We will be together again. I promise.” 

With that, she slowly leans closer, hands reaching out to cup those strong cheekbones with the full intention to have his lips on hers for the last time before she vanishes. However, the sound of approaching crisp footsteps from the densely populated forest alerts her of the intrusion and Katherine grits her teeth in frustration. She’s more than ready to snarl, to bare her fangs at that damn werewolf for not being able to wait a damn second more when—

“Katerina.”

Immediately, she stiffens, her spine snapping straight at that voice and the way the ‘R’ in her name rolls so perfectly that it takes her less than a second to realise _who_ is behind her.

_No._

_God forbid, no!_

With her fingers trembling at her sides, she blanches. She’s hoping she’s wrong, that it’s simply the vervain in her system that’s causing her to imagine that dreaded voice from the past, that she’s overwrought from the evening’s events, resulting in her hallucinating that voice.

But when her eyes fall onto _his_ form, her heart sinks and her body gives an involuntary jerk.

“Elijah.”

She hasn’t seen him since that fateful day all those years ago in England. But despite the centuries gone by, nothing has changed—the Original is still dressed and groomed impeccably as ever. Clean-shaven with his hair parted neatly and donning a navy suit that can only be exclusively custom-made for him, the ensemble is accompanied by a woolen black coat that outlines his broad shoulders and brings attention to the shine of his polished boots. 

Elijah is stoic as ever, impassive even, as he stands not more than twenty feet away in the treelines, hands clasped behind his back as he studies her calculatingly with those sharp brown eyes. It is as though she’s a conundrum that can be easily solved with a mathematical formula. The way his gaze cuts over her leaves her quivering and Katherine swallows, ignoring the burn of his stare.

Fear and bone-wrenching terror sink into her bones and she expels a shaky breath. What had she done wrong? What loose end had she not tied up that left a trail that led right to her? 

But more importantly, if Elijah is here, she deduces that Klaus wouldn’t be too far away; after all, where one Original makes an appearance, the others soon follow.

The sheer thought of Klaus almost sends her into a panic attack. She cannot imagine the death or the years of torment and horror he has planned for her. Beneath her ribcage, her heart works frantically as her mind races, eyes scanning her surroundings desperately as she tries to figure a way for her to leave with her head intact.

She cannot go back. She _has_ to escape.

But first, she needs to buy some time.

“I am not going back to _Klaus_ ,” she spits, voice dripping with hostility as she gathers the folds of her dress in her hands, readying herself to run and never look back. “I would rather die.”

“That can be arranged,” he says in a deceptively even tone and takes one step closer. Her breath shudders. “However, bringing you to your death is not why I’ve chosen to seek you out this evening.”

Katherine bites back a deprecating snort and restrains herself from smoothing out the wrinkles in her skirts as she ignores the sticky feel of coagulating blood soaking through the silken fabric. She shakes her head and spots a gap near the treeline to her left and she sets her shoulders in determination. It may be futile to attempt to run but she’ll take her chances.

Her eyes flutter for the slightest of moments and she zips off—

Only to come to a sudden halt when Elijah appears right in front of her.

She gasps, feet stumbling and there is no denying the way her body trembles.

“Katerina,” he warns in a low tone. “Do not try to run. I give you my word that no harm shall befall you—”

“Your word?” A hint of hysterical laughter bleeds through her tone. “I do not want it! All of your vows and noble promises mean absolutely nothing to me.”

The lines around Elijah’s eyes tighten and his jaw clenches and her gut is filled with victory and satisfaction when her poison coated barb aims well and true.

“Miss Pierce! Please, we really have to go…” George Lockwood begins before trailing off once he catches sight of her and Elijah.

Katherine doesn’t bother responding, instead, her mind begins coming up with ways to take advantage of the werewolf’s arrival. One is to throw George Lockwood at Elijah (even being an Original, it doesn’t allow him to escape the effects of werewolf venom) and in the moment of distraction, she’ll take the chance to leave. But with how her plans have been disastrously foiled one after the other, she isn’t too surprised when the werewolf falters under Elijah’s cool challenging stare.

“I believe whatever deal you made with Katherine Pierce has been concluded,” the Original says smoothly with polite detachment on his face.

No matter how thick she’s always assumed George to be, the man can clearly take a hint as he barely gives her another glance before vanishing through the trees. Without a doubt, the wretched wolf can sense the danger the Original poses and wants nothing to do with him.

Before she can react, Elijah turns to lock his gaze with hers. “Now,” he begins, pupils dilating. “You will stay silent and you will follow my every verbal instruction.”

Compulsion.

Thank the merciful gods watching after her that Giuseppe Salvatore had injected her with a syringe full of vervain earlier this evening. She can work with this. She has to.

Katherine forces her features to slacken, to give off the illusion that Elijah’s compulsion has settled into her brain.

“Come along.”

Dutifully, she makes a move to follow him but jolts when Elijah pauses and a sharp gasp is wrenched from her throat when he flashes and leans in until there is barely an inch between their faces. Her eyes widen at the sudden proximity, and Katherine swears if she moves, their noses will bump against each other.

From the moonlight filtering through the trees, she can see the specks of gold and honey brown in his irises that remind her of autumn back in her homeland. Her mouth goes dry when his narrowed gaze rakes over her face cautiously. Belatedly, she wonders if she’ll get her heart yanked out of her chest now. 

For all of his manners and Old World charm, Elijah does have the infamous reputation of violently ripping hearts out from chests and severing heads off necks. 

“Katerina?”

She blinks, refusing to say a word. 

“Hmm,” he hums, head tilting as he cups her cheeks, thumbs curving the edge of her cheekbones. Feeling overly warm, she fights the urge to shiver at the feel of his rough calloused hands against her skin. “You have ingested vervain.”

With her ruse falling through, she glowers resentfully at him. But regardless of how furious and terrified she is, she holds her tongue. Despite their shared history, Elijah is still an Original; it wouldn’t be wise to provoke him.

“No matter,” he continues and drops his hands from her. “Do come along. We have things to discuss.”

She refuses to move. “We have nothing left to say to each other.”

Elijah shifts his jaw and offers a wry smile. “I doubt that. But,” he lays out a hand with his palm facing up. It is a pathetic gesture to mimic a truce. “On my honour, Katerina, I promise that I bear you no ill will.”

She eyes his outstretched hand, and then back to his face, noting the openness in his gaze. But considering the fact it’s been ten minutes and the Original hasn’t made a move to incapacitate her in some way, Katherine wonders if he does mean it, that her safety is truly ensured.

If anything, the honesty in his eyes _should_ assure her. And yet, she remembers being enchanted and captivated by this very same pair of eyes in 1492, and if it hadn’t been for Trevor (bless his immortal soul wherever he is), she would’ve been dead by now from Klaus’ sacrificial ritual.

She presses her lips into a thin line. 

No. This is the man who’s hunted her all over the world on behalf of his wretched brother. The man who most probably stood aside as the aforementioned brother slaughtered her defenceless and innocent family like animals in their home.

The defiant spirit in her doesn’t wither at the trap she’s in, but instead, grows in strength. 

Katherine narrows her eyes. “I am not going anywhere with you,” she says strongly and tilts her chin up. “Undoubtedly, you would hand me over to Klaus.”

Elijah sighs as a rare expression of impatience flashes across his features. “I told you that you shall not be harmed.”

“And I told you the doubts I harbour about you and your infamous honour.”

His jaw twitches. “If it is the difficult path you wish to walk on, I shall humour you.”

Before she can react, her neck is snapped with a quick jerk of his wrists.

* * * * *

With a sharp gasp, Katherine awakens.

Frantically, she takes in her surroundings, only to note that she’s tucked into a large bed in a bedroom she doesn’t recognise. The colour scheme of beautifully fashioned dark walnut wood furniture and cream-coloured embroidered sheets with complementing floral wallpapers appeal very much to her expensive tastes.

Pulling up the covers and looking down at her body, she realises with relief she’s still dressed in the same garments from before. The urge to tidy herself up is strong but is repressed when she spots a door that must surely be an exit. Hope flares big and bright within her and Katherine tosses her bedraggled curls over her shoulders. Staggering to her feet, she gathers her senses and flashes straight to it, hand outstretched for the handle, only to slam right into an invisible barrier.

She stumbles back and gnashes her teeth, glaring at the door. She hated witches.

To have freedom within her grasp and being unable to attain it is the literal form of Hell for her.

“Good morning, Katerina.”

She whirls around and blinks at the sight of Elijah sitting on a red velvet wingback chair situated at the far corner of the room. “Where am I?” she demands heatedly, eyes flashing. “Where have you taken me?”

“I did say we had things to discuss,” Elijah answers mildly as he takes a sip of what she smells to be freshly roasted coffee. 

Her mouth waters while her gums ache and her throat thirsts for something more substantial than coffee. Every part of her longs for a human to drop by so her fangs can sink into a vein and drink. But with the larger threat of an Original— _of Elijah_ , she swallows dryly, repressing her hunger.

“You snapped my neck,” she points out accusingly.

“I apologise for that,” he says, not looking one bit apologetic as he picks up the morning paper and scans through the loose sheets. “But as you were unwilling to be reasonable in regards to my request for a mere conversation—”

“As far as I know, you are simply buttering me up before handing me over to Klaus.”

“And I assured you more than once that I have no intention of doing so.” 

She purses her lips, tilting her head and studying him through her lashes. “Then why am I here?”

Katherine watches warily as he pauses, his gaze combing slowly over her. Acutely, she can feel her cheeks warm under his attention and she fights the urge to fidget. However, never let it be said that Katherine Pierce is not self-aware. She might have no qualms about lying to others, but she will never lie to herself. Not even about the _things_ that Elijah has evoked from her from the very beginning.

“Would you like to get dressed? There is a fresh change of clothes for you.”

She recognises that as more of a request than a matter of opinion. It irks her further when he gestures nonchalantly to a pastel blue dress lying on the bed before calmly taking another sip from his cup.

Narrowing her eyes and not breaking their locked eyes, she shrugs off the silk garment covering her black ruffled gown—that most society matrons would deem scandalous—before yanking the ribbons of her dress. She watches his face boldly as the garment slides down her body and pools into a puddle of silk at her feet, leaving her in her partially sheer underthings.

Elijah blinks, his face is as impassive and blank as ever. If it isn't for the faintest flicker of his lashes, she would have thought him immune to her charms.

A hint of a smirk appears on her face and she slowly loosens the laces of her corset, allowing the stiff fabric to join her discarded dress on the well-polished wooden floor. Without waiting and ever aware of her audience, she continues stripping, slipping out of her chemise and rolling her stockings off her feet.

And before she knows it, she is completely disrobed before him.

But Katherine should have known better than to expect a reaction from the ever unflappable vampire. As she rests her hands on her naked hips and cocks her head, Elijah simply quirks a brow at her little show before turning his attention back to the papers in his lap.

She scowls and with a petulant pout, quickly slips on the numerous garments he’d provided, starting from the cotton chemise and satin stockings. Before she has the chance to wonder how she’s going to get the corset laced up without help, she feels a source of heat behind her, followed by the gentle touch of fingers brushing against her back.

Peeking over her shoulder, Katherine bites her lower lip as Elijah pushes her hair out of the way before methodically hooking up the stiff whalebone contraption. Of its own volition, her stomach does a flip at the gesture and much to her irritation, she notes the way her mouth quivers when the tips of his fingers brush the notches of her spine. Despite having a layer or two between his hands and the increasingly sensitive skin of her back, she feels electrified, as though her nerve endings are set alight by the very man behind her.

Licking her dry lips, Katherine peers up at him from under her lashes. “Should I be concerned that you seem a tad too familiar with the intimate workings of a lady’s dress?”

Elijah makes a sound that is terribly similar to that of a huff and a chuckle.

Katherine decides to count that as a victory.

Once he steps away so she can pull on the blue dress he’d so kindly provided, she automatically turns with her back facing him. It’s a prompt for the man to assist her once more with the numerous laces and buttons that fasten the dress together. 

And again, he obliges her. 

Squashing down the multitude of sensations that run along her back, she focuses on the way the sky-blue apparel fits her perfectly from the capped sleeves and its modest neckline, down to the delicate lace trimmings that decorate the fabric tastefully in floral patterns. It is a dress she would have picked out for herself.

She wonders if she ought to be flattered that he remembers her dress size.

“Well,” she starts lightly and begins brushing her hair with her fingers, ignoring the way Elijah’s eyes drag along her bodice, “now that I am all dolled up for your pleasure, what do you want?”

“You are perhaps the only individual who has successfully managed to evade my brother for more than three hundred years.” He moves back to this spot near the window and she purses her lip, admiring the well-tailored cut of his pristine white dress shirt. “Most would have buckled under the strain and pressure in less than ten,” he continues.

Katherine raises a brow, resisting the urge to preen at his compliment.

Elijah settles back on his chair and faces her. “I wish to know how you have managed to accomplish such a feat.”

Brows creasing, she crosses her arms and eyes him carefully. “Why? If you wanted to seek me out, you simply had to send a letter. But I suppose it does not matter any longer,” she answers lightly and settles herself on the edge of the bed, artfully tossing her curls over her shoulder. “After all, you caught me,” she adds coyly.

Ignoring her blatant flirting, he gives her a blasé look. “Because I am on the run from him as well.”

She blinks, digging her fingers into the plush cotton bedspread so she wouldn’t keel over from shock. As far as she knows and remembers, both brothers have always been joined at the hip. Klaus, the demon that hides in the shadows where he reigns from his throne fashioned of blood and tears and Elijah, his ever-loyal guard dog who does as his monstrous brother wishes.

All in the name of family.

“I beg your pardon?” she prompts.

Elijah offers a sardonic smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Niklaus has become increasingly paranoid and distrustful. So much so, that he has daggered Kol over a mild disagreement. He has hidden his body along with our eldest brother, Finn and I fear that I might be next.”

Her lips part, storing away that tidbit of information. She hasn’t been aware that there was another brother. She’s heard of Kol before and his antics that never fail to lead to destruction. There isn’t much of a surprise why the youngest brother has found himself in a coffin. But Katherine likes to think that she knows Klaus and his murderous tendencies well enough that Elijah must have done something to be turned on by his beloved sibling.

“Why? What have you done?”

His smile turns grim. “Earlier this century, he orchestrated the death of someone I held dear. It is safe to say… forgiveness is not exactly something I had in mind before I acted out.”

She makes an inquiring noise and crosses her ankles daintily, wondering who this person was and the qualities they must have possessed that they had the privilege to be embraced so _dearly_ in Elijah’s inner circle.

An inner circle that is notoriously impossible to be part of.

A beat later, she wonders why she even cares.

Brushing off the ill feelings that bloom like weeds in her chest, she gives an impatient sigh. “Again, what exactly is the point of your narration?”

Elijah shifts his jaw and makes a movement with his shoulders that she deems too elegant and regal to be considered a shrug. “What better way to stay ahead of Niklaus than with someone who’s done it successfully for more than three centuries?”

“You are an Original,” Katherine decides to point out with a daring arch of her brows. “Surely you have sycophants who are willing to accomplish anything for you. Even death.”

He hums in acknowledgement. “Yes, but I do not trust any of them not to stab me in the back to gain favour with my brother. He is, after all, the more popular Original to strike a bargain with.”

“And you think I would not?”

A smirk graces the corner of his lips. “You could try, Katerina. But both you and I know that my brother would rather wreak his long-awaited vengeance on you than to come after me.”

Katherine scowls, unable to refute that point. “Fine,” she huffs, ignoring the way her gut clenches almost painfully at his continued use of her birth name. “What will I get in return for assisting you?”

“You would have my protection against the many enemies you have made over the years of running. Including my brother.”

Her mouth twists and she shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. Too many years of being on the run have left her distrustful of people willing to help out of the goodness of their hearts. And right now, Elijah’s offer sounds too good to be true. 

There has to be a catch. 

She hasn’t survived this long by trusting anybody. Least of all someone who had betrayed her in the past, who has set her on this long and arduous course of running and constantly looking over her shoulder.

“How can I trust you?” She shifts on the bed, fingers leisurely tracing the carved patterns on the bedpost. “How do I know this is not some elaborate scheme to turn me over to Klaus?” 

Elijah shoots her a look that positively drips of condescension. “You simply have to.”

Her nostrils flare and she gnashes her teeth together. Perhaps it is the shock of seeing Elijah after so long that loosens her tongue without fear of retribution. “Trust is not given, it is _earned_ ,” she snarls, more than incensed. “You have done nothing to earn mine. Not when you led me on in 1492 so you could have me willing and compliant in your brother’s sacrificial ritual!”

And there, the elephant in the room is finally acknowledged.

Elijah is quiet, his gaze is lowered and much to Katherine’s satisfaction, he looks properly chastised. It does help that she can see a hint of shame staining his handsome pronounced features. “You are right,” he concedes slowly as though he isn’t used to apologies. His brows knot and his eyes are shadowed. “Forgive me.”

Katherine’s shoulders slacken and she’s left faltering at his admission. Not for the first time since their reunion, she’s left feeling off-kilter and she resents it. With how he’s looking at her as though he can see through her and every single horrid thing she’s done to survive, she hastily glances away as her fingers play with the trimmings of her skirt.

She refuses to allow him to see further into her soul.

Not when the ever noble and moral aspect of him will be repulsed.

He clears his throat, breaking the uncomfortable quiet that falls over the room. “I promise that as long as you assist me in avoiding Niklaus, I will stand between you and any foe that you might have.”

She sniffs and slides an insolent glance his way. “Who is to say you would do any good? You too are on the run.”

“As you mentioned earlier, Katerina, I am an Original, and therefore, I cannot be killed.”

She purses her lips at that. The idea of having an indestructible bodyguard does hold a certain appeal. But would the security Elijah provides be worth having to face him for the foreseeable future?

Unfortunately, she doesn’t know.

“Do we have a deal?” Elijah leans forward, hands resting on his thighs, the dark depths of his gaze not shifting away from her face.

Katherine studies him wordlessly, dragging her eyes over his every feature, starting from the top of his forehead, to his eyes that hinted nothing of the inner workings of his mind, down to his aristocratic nose and the sharp angular planes of his jaw before lingering on his mouth.

“I need blood,” she says instead. “Get me some.”

“Would that be considered a yes?”

In all honesty, she’s more than exhausted from running, of waking up every morning wondering when her past will finally catch up with her. Especially after the disaster that is Mystic Falls. Hence, the added benefit of having protection in the form of an immortal vampire is entirely too tempting to pass upon. 

However, being the prideful and spiteful woman that she is, Katherine shrugs and leans insouciantly against a bedpost, feigning nonchalance while twirling a lock of her hair around her fingers because she will be utterly damned before she shows how easily she’s been won over.

“Good.” Elijah rises to his feet and gathers his forgotten cup and papers. “I will get you some nourishment and we shall be on our way.”

She jerks upright and follows his retreating form with a frown. Is she unfortunately that transparent?

“Where will we be going?”

He pauses at the threshold of the door and looks at her over his shoulder. “England.”

 _“England?”_ she sputters, unable to believe her ears. She has not stepped foot in that cursed country since she fled Klaus.

The tiniest hint of a smile settles on his lips. “Yes, England.”

She glowers as he leaves and the door shuts behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> I would definitely be borrowing some canon parts from TO so if there's anything familiar, it's from the show! Plus, I hope the characters came off alright and not OOC and stuff. As always, I would love to hear from you! Feedback feeds this soul! :) 
> 
> ~~also I promise I'll get back to my other stories asap! it's just the muse refusing to work with anything else other than this!~~


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